


Margin

by The Missus (schwarmerei1)



Series: The Paper Series [6]
Category: E.R.
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-21
Updated: 2012-10-21
Packaged: 2017-11-16 23:10:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/544854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schwarmerei1/pseuds/The%20Missus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kerry allows Kim back<br/>Warning: Graphic descriptions of sex between women, Fisting, Language<br/>Spoilers: Up to 7.22 “Rampage”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Margin

** Author’s note:  ** This series was written between _Where the Heart is_ and _Rampage_ and begins when Kim gets Kerry’s letter.  Between Lori and the letter, the angst was unbearable, and I stopped work on the first series to get this all down and out. 

  
  


_ And she told her with the crush of her fingertips into Kim’s hair as wave after wave of her coming ripped through her, she told her how she recognized her home.   _

Kim kept after her, chasing with her fingers even the slightest of Kerry’s tremors, coaxing every hesitant aftershock into a full cyclic spasm with her mouth.  Kerry’s hoarsening cries grew fainter as her throat went parched from panting.  Kim carried her through into silence, easing her back into the dimensional world only when she felt Kerry seize around her fingers with diminishing force.  

She relaxed her mouth but kept her lips protectively settled into Kerry, easing her fingers away to massage Kerry’s wetness around and around her perineum.  Kim heard the raspy catch of thirst in Kerry’s breathing as she stroked a goodbye kiss over her vulva and sat up to disengage herself from the warm cape of Kerry’s legs around her shoulders.  Kerry rolled onto her side instinctively, for the comfort of her own weight pressing her thighs together.  Her hands came to Kim’s face and caressed her smile; Kerry loved to feel her own wetness on Kim’s cheeks, and tonight she felt especially blessed to have the chance.

Kim gathered Kerry’s hands and kissed them, together.  She murmured to her, saying she’d be right back, and rifled through the disheveled bedding to find the corners of her light flannel blanket.  Kim stood and draped the warmth of it over Kerry’s folded form, marveling at the dichotomy of this woman’s expansive receptiveness and her small spare body, now all burnished planes and angles and seeming completeness.  

Kerry lay still and recouped her breathing as Kim, trailing a hand against the wall for support, went to the kitchen to draw two glasses of water.  Her own wetness had the dual effect of leaving her vulva aching and hypersensitive to her every motion, yet briefly sticking her thighs together with uncomfortable friction at each step.  She returned to the bedroom by way of the bath, where a hot wet washcloth and a quick toweloff did a lot to comfort her.  Kim splashed cool water over the glow of her face and throat, and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror as she patted her cheeks dry.  Her hair was tousled and her cheeks were still passionately flushed.  Kerry’s grip on her shoulders had left a slight imprint.  Her nipples were swollen and darkblushed, in need of touch.  

Walking back to the bedroom, Kim was stilled for a moment by the sight of Kerry in her bed.  Still in the same position as when Kim had left, Kerry glowed warm in the soft lamplight, her hair fanned across her face and the pillow behind her, the fingertips of one hand just visible under the edge of the blanket.  The rise of her hip was the sexiest thing Kim could ever remember seeing; the linear pattern of the plaid had abandoned its trajectory to mould itself to Kerry’s curves, the deep shadow between the ridge of her thigh and the flare of her ribs breathed in time with her.  

Kim stepped to her, knowing how Kerry must need the water she was bringing.  Kerry mumbled a slurred greeting sound when Kim sat beside her on the bed.  “Do you think you can sit up, baby?” Kim asked with a twinkle in her voice.  Kerry’s one-sided smile crept across her face.  She shook her head, “N’mhm.”  Kim’s expression expanded in pride.  

Having already slaked her own thirst, she filled her mouth again and bent to Kerry, kissing her lips apart and allowing a slight stream of water to flow between them.  Kerry drank from her, swallowing softly, and left her head thrown back and her mouth open for more when they were through.  “M’m... ahh,” she sighed, as the refreshment crept through her, easing her breathing and soothing her throat.  Kim kissed her this way again and again, feeling Kerry’s strength returning and her own arousal beginning to grow again.  

Kim scooped Kerry into her arms and they sat up together, Kerry’s eyes and blood pressure adjusting slowly to light and gravity.  She blinked twice and accepted the remaining water in the cup that Kim offered.  Kim crept over Kerry’s bent legs and crawled to the other side of her, claiming a share of the flannel blanket and resting her head against Kerry’s shoulder.  Kerry set down the empty glass and took Kim into an embrace, tilting the blond woman’s head up to watch her rest.  

The back of Kerry’s hand stroked Kim’s downy cheek, and Kerry trailed her smooth nails down further, along the tendons and great vessels of Kim’s neck.  She was glad she’d taken the time to buff them.  Kim shivered even under the blanket and Kerry felt such a rush of tenderness at her response that she brought the front of her fingertips up under Kim’s jaw and lifted her face for a kiss.  

Kim shifted and rose to follow Kerry’s slight pull, and as their kiss deepened, Kim draped herself over Kerry’s nearer half.  One of Kim’s turgid nipples pulled over the side of Kerry’s warm breast and the sensation was near pain in its intensity; what might have been a moan in praise of the art of Kerry’s kiss became a gasping cry for help.

Kerry caught her strong with one arm across the back of her shoulders as the sensation whipped through her; the timbre of Kim’s voice was unmistakable.  Kerry caressed her other hand down the back of Kim’s ribs, easing over her waist and the front of her, until the muscled divot of her palm cupped over Kim’s iliac crest.  She rocked Kim backward from her shoulders and pushed her hips with her palm to turn them both over.  Kim rolled gratefully to her back, her breathing deepening and responsive already.  Kerry was thankful to see Kim’s arousal so plainly; she wanted Kim so badly she could cry, and she had been so afraid that Kim would receive her stiffly, or not at all.  To see Kim so clearly in need of her soothed Kerry’s heart and calmed her to focus on the splendid woman stretched out before her.  

She knelt over Kim’s arm and ran small hands over Kim’s face and shoulders, around her back and under her arms, grazing below her breasts... soaking up the feel of her, touching where she had been forbidden only a few days before.  Kim sighed deeply, her lip in her teeth, and rolled with her, trying to extend each moment.  She was pulsing wet again.  Her skin felt like she’d been sunburnt; she could barely stand the cling of the bedcovers beside her and she kicked to be rid of them.  It had been so long since she had touched her, so long since Kim had absorbed Kerry’s distilled desire through her pores.  She could not be without her for another moment.

Kerry brushed the back of her hands, then her maddeningly soft fingertips up and over Kim’s distended nipples.  Kim felt her nerves compete in a panic to be the first to synapse onto the ridges of Kerry’s fingerprints.  Feral vowel sounds drenched her moans with meaning as Kerry’s compassionate mouth sank to take her at last; some margin of relief for Kim.  

Kim wrenched upward, trying to intensify the sensation, but Kerry took her panting mouth away.  Kim wailed in protest but moaned again when she felt Kerry’s palms take the place of her mouth.  Kerry’s hands burned with desire and, trembling, Kim felt a shift in her: a possessive, perhaps even an aggressive, shift.  The barest ends of Kerry’s hair wisped across Kim’s eyelashes as she bent to her, rumbling a whisper as her hands left lazy trails of fire along the underside of Kim’s breasts, “Are you feeling urgent, baby?  Or can I take my time?”

Kim was well beyond any ability to answer.  She curled her spine to try to fit her nipples into Kerry’s hands, sucked her mouth hard against Kerry’s upper chest.  Her cunt gave a shout of wetness and her knees crushed together and up toward her belly, trying to bear some of the weight of Kim’s need.  Kim’s hands were open and seeking.  She closed them over Kerry’s back and flexed her blunted nails into the spaces between Kerry’s ribs along her spine.  An unusually abject howl wracked through Kim, telling Kerry she was pleading, feeling desperate, even alone.  Kerry could not bear the thought and came to her, wanting to undo the time they had lost.  Raking strong solid fingerpads down Kim’s neck and arms, Kerry needed to know that Kim knew she was there with her, that Kim was safely in her hands.  

Kerry’s own arousal simmered through her throaty voice.  “Oh, honey... I hear you, baby... I hear you.  Shhhhhh.... I’ll take the edge off, baby... right now, right now... I’ve got you, baby....”  

Kim threw herself from side to side, searching.  Kerry’s left arm gripped the back of Kim’s shoulders with all her might, and she stroked her right hand firmly down Kim’s back to the granite-tensed curves of her ass.  As she slid her hand between Kim’s straining cheeks she pulled her over toward her, sliding her knee between Kim’s calves and bringing their hips crest-to-crest.  A briefly painful white-hot flash of light hit Kim when Kerry’s fingers found her wetness and began to pull powerfully along her vulva from clit to ass, and Kerry heard the choke in her voice with pride.  

Kim was still burning and her motions were fevered, but the sheer power of Kerry’s deep, kneading touch eventually pushed her into a more or less even rhythm.  As Kerry felt the chaos ebb, she wedged Kim’s legs more apart and broke the pattern of her kneading just long enough to bring her hand around to Kim’s belly side and press the heel of her palm down firmly over her clit.  Kim bucked powerfully against her, but in the same cadence as Kerry had set.  Kerry smiled at her success and slid all four of her fingers smoothly into Kim, as deeply as she could go.  Kim froze for a moment, suspended, and though she saw that same light behind her eyes again, she felt it this time as a searing in the small-muscled web between her sacrum and the back of her hip.  She reared up to drive herself onto Kerry’s fingers, willing her to touch the seared place from the inside; her mind fixated on that touch as her only hope of relief.

The violence of Kim’s thrusts turned Kerry’s will to water; she could not hold her back.  Kim’s eyes were wild with want, her hands were claws in Kerry’s back, not even trying to direct her, not even trying to help.  She grunted and groaned without hearing herself; Kerry would not have been surprised to find foam flecking Kim’s lips.  

Kerry tucked her thumb in her palm and slid entirely into Kim, shuddering as she felt Kim spread to take her.  As the meatiest part of Kerry’s hand came inside her, Kim felt partial relief at last.  She wanted to peel time out of its matrix and pause there, wanted to feel that moment forever: the perfect resistance, the perfect easing-in, the common tangent to their curves.  But time moved, and Kerry sank deeper into her, and Kim felt her muscles sigh closed in relief well above Kerry’s wrist.  She began to fuck her in earnest.  And as Kerry took her, deep and sure, the curve of her hand eased over the seared spots in Kim, and she felt the rest of her need begin to give.

Kerry was in awe of her.  The theme of Kim’s body was long and lean and languid, with her heavy breasts and deep, lusciously flared hips as seeming exceptions.  Kerry had delighted to learn everything about Kim that she could, and she knew what need Kim must be in tonight to take her like this.  Kim did love to be fucked long and hard and deep; she was a strong, strong woman and it took intensity to overwhelm her.  But, given the option, Kim usually would have forgone Kerry’s knowing fingers for the genius of her mouth; she had always been loath to go without Kerry’s gifted tongue and teeth.  Tonight it was the last thing she wanted... Kim was consumed with an artless desire, base and wild and uncommon for them.  Their wounded time apart and their crawl back together had shaken primal things loose in Kim, and she needed Kerry to take her through them; she needed her thickly, broadly, solidly tonight.

Kim literally salivated at the sensation as she ploughed herself along the length of Kerry’s hand, icy-hot inside, driven for more and more.  Every nudge against the ache in her only made her want more.  Her breathing was ruined with moaning, her hands came loose from Kerry’s back and sought grounding.  “Help me...” she cried softly, utterly unaware.  Kerry shifted to kneel, slowing her rhythm and making Kim cry with want.  She shushed her lovingly and soothed her fingers down from Kim’s shoulder to lead her hand to the thick vertical slats of the headboard.  Kerry encouraged Kim’s fingers around the heavy wooden standard, “Hold here, baby... and don’t let go.”  Kim gratefully clutched the solid shape, and all Kerry had to do was stroke her other shoulder to inspire her to do the same with her other hand.  Kim’s body heaved with her labored breath, and stretched out like this she was stunning.  

Kim’s head was thrown back next to the pile of pillows she’d rejected earlier.  Her throat was exposed and Kerry longed to mouth and suck her there.  ‘Soon enough,’ she promised herself.  Her breasts fell softly away from one another, and Kerry watched her ragged breathing torment her ribcage.  Her belly swelled to hint at Kerry’s hand buried in the depths of her, and now that Kim had something safe to strain against, Kerry began to rock her hand inside her.  Kim shuddered back up from idle, powering her thrusts along the doublet curve of her spine, undulating over Kerry’s spiraling drives into her.  Kerry felt the thinner hot wetness that ran down from Kim’s compressed vulva and she ached to savor her.  Inside, Kim’s wetness was thick and creamy, slick in her hand.  

Kim strained heavily against her own grip on the headboard, but she didn’t let go, even as she bucked and drove and writhed to nudge Kerry harder against the very back of her.  Kerry gave her her all, sweating and straining and loving every stroke.  Kim began to turn onto her side as she increased the pace of her passion, dragging the contours of Kerry’s balled-up hand over the tangled interior roots of her clit.  Her voice went wild with labor and love, keening for release in Kerry’s arms.  

Her hands still set, Kim torqued her waist slightly to lay herself fully on one side.  Her body rocked from the pounding of her blood and the power of Kerry’s thrusts inside her, and her hair fell over her face as she turned to cry out into the pillow, muffling herself slightly.  Her wetness pulsed down Kerry’s arm, and drove her mad; Kerry needed her to come as badly as Kim did.

Kerry brought all her weight onto her knees, freeing her other hand to spread solidly against the swell below Kim’s navel.  She could feel her own thrusting there and wept at the beauty of it all.  She spoke to Kim, unsure whether she could even hear her.  She told her how she loved her, how she loved to be inside her.  She begged her to come for her.  Kim was openmouthed against the pillow, weeping a litany of incoherent ‘Please’-s and ‘I need you’-s and holding to the headboard for dear life.

And then Kerry felt her slide over the edge, beginning as a wringing wave of contraction that sped over the length of her hand like a flash flood.  Kim panicked as she came, screaming at the top of her lungs right into the pillow, saving both of their ears.  Her body seized in a stellar display of musculature, crushing through Kim’s body like a possession.  Kerry heard a definite crack from the headboard but she didn’t see either of Kim’s slats break.  Kim went on and on, her voice not giving out for long moments.  Kerry drew her through it, tempering the flashing backdrafts of heat with steady, cooling pulls against Kim’s pubic bone, or evening out a jittery cycle of contractions with knowing, calming pressure against the edges of her cervix.    

Kim’s eyes rolled behind her lids as she rambled through her coming.  Kerry felt her begin to give out and she relaxed her hand.  With each of Kim’s impressive aftershocks, Kerry eased her hand downward.  Soon, she slipped all the way out from her, feeling the rush of Kim’s pent-up wetness flow with her, but she left her fingers in place for another couple of spasms; she couldn’t bear to leave her empty after an evening like that.  Kerry wished she could sleep with her hand inside Kim.  

Kim still clung to the headboard even as she came down slowly.  Kerry straddled her sweaty, heaving lover and took Kim’s fingers out of their grips, one by one.  Kim moaned with relief as Kerry smoothed out her hands and tucked them up beside her head, into the pillows.  Kim silently mouthed nonsense words as Kerry rolled her over to the other side of the bed, wiping smears of wetness off them both with the discarded sheet she had reached for in shame at the evening’s start.  Enveloping Kim in a solid embrace, she half-dragged the comforter over most of the two of them.  She held tightly to Kim, who spasmed occasionally like a child dreaming of falling.  

Kerry ran her hands everywhere over Kim, making up for lost time, lost chances, lost hope.  None of it mattered now, and none of it mattered here.  Kim slurred to her in her sleep, and Kerry had no idea what she’d said.  She smiled into Kim’s baby-soft neck and realized that she didn’t really care.  Whatever she’d said, she wasn’t afraid. 

  



End file.
